Throw Roses in the Rain
by that asian
Summary: In which the ND girls attempt to flirt-slash-seduce Kurt's new neighbor, Sebastian Smythe. This goes about as well as one can expect. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters, nor do I own Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen.

AN: You should be happy I didn't just oh-so-creatively name it "Not the Boy Next Door." The title comes from a song I've never listened to but randomly found in my book of sheet music, and I liked the line, so yay. This also disregards a lot of canon (Blainers isn't here, unfortunately), but nothing too AU. No serious triggers, but contains liberal amounts of cursing, talking about sex (no smut), very brief mentions of homophobia, horny boys, and an overly slutty Santana.

* * *

Other than the "Hi-I'm-Kurt-nice-to-meet-you-have-some-cheap-store-bought-cookies-bye" interaction with his new neighbor across the street, Kurt had afterward only spoken once more to Sebastian Smythe. The entire 120 seconds of interaction was spent seething at Sebastian as he not-so-subtly insulted Kurt's noticeable lack of straightness, and resulted in Kurt inventing a wild excuse to walk away in order to avoid introducing Sebastian's face with his fist. In just two minutes of Sebastian's idea of being amicable neighbors, Kurt was able to deduce that Sebastian:

a. had sex on a regular basis

b. was exceedingly talented at being an asshole

c. would probably give him another two hundred comments on his 'hard luck case of the gay face' had Kurt not left.

It was with this in mind that Kurt ignored Sebastian as he bent over to pick up dropped mail, ass high and mighty and round in the air; ignored Sebastian as his biceps flexed enticingly while moving boxes inside the new home; definitely ignored Sebastian during his daily run around the block clad only in a wifebeater and shorts; and most definitely ignored Sebastian when the New Directions girls came to Kurt's house to ogle from afar despite being involved with someone else, much to Kurt's chagrin.

As the lazy days of August rolled by, the New Directions girls had agreed, to varying degrees of excitement, to attempt flirting with Sebastian, perhaps for a kiss or in Santana's case, mind-blowing sex. Kurt had decided not to question their motives – he had long given up in questioning the insanity – and instead opted to tease the girls.

"You all do realize that I will be watching all of you, right? This could be wonderful blackmail material," Kurt said, face set somewhere between mischievous and mocking.

"Sex ain't blackmail," Santana responded haughtily, filing her nails, "unless you have it with Jacob Ben Jewfro." Brittany looked at her, confused. Before she could say anything in response, however, Santana silenced her with a look.

"It is when you don't get it, Satan."

"You kidding? Have you seen my babies?" she asked, gesturing at her rack. Brittany nodded appreciatively.

"Manufactured babies," Quinn chimed in, earning her an icy glare from Santana.

"Better than yours, though, and they're earning me a ride in his backseat."

"And maybe a baby or two." Quinn gave her a delicately icy glare. Kurt wasn't sure how _delicate_ and _icy_ went together, but she had certainly accomplished it.

"My vagina kills sperm."

Tina looked at Santana suspiciously. "That's not biologically possible…." Santana merely waved a hand in Tina's general direction, dismissing the notion.

"God, we've been bickering all day. Literally. Someone go flirt now before I cut a bitch," Mercedes said, looking at them. "You know what? I'll take the stab first. Tomorrow Rachel can try."

"Wait, _what_? No, no, no, I'm going to get back with Finn, I'm just here to observe flirting techniques—"

"Tomorrow," Kurt agreed, causing Rachel to pout, cross her arms, and glare at Kurt rather childishly. It was only a matter of time before Rachel would begin researching and outlining a not-failproof plan of How to Approach Kurt's Attractive Neighbor, Part A.

"Okay. Wish me luck, guys, and don't laugh."

And so began the Hot Neighbor Disaster of Summer 2011.

Mercedes

Of all the stories, Mercedes' is the least embarrassing.

As Kurt and the girls watch from the air conditioned confines of the Hudmel household, each one of them was cornered around the two windows facing the Smythes' household, which led to much squirming and Santana nearly clawing off Rachel's face. Mercedes had called Kurt's number so they were able to hear the fuzzy conversation, although he wished some of the girls could just keep quiet for a few minutes. Well, mostly Rachel, and even though he loved her to pieces, she could work on some social cues.

"Hi."

Even in the distance, Kurt was able to see Sebastian raising an eyebrow at Mercedes, unimpressed. Well, rude.

"Can I help you?"

Mercedes shifted her weight, and Kurt mentally encouraged her.

"I'm Mercedes. Just wanted to drop by and say hello to Kurt's new neighbor. This might sound forward, but do you, by any chance, have a girlfriend?"

_That's it_, Kurt thought.

He saw Sebastian chuckle, smirking as if he had a not-so-secret secret. Kurt guessed multiple girlfriends. Or maybe friends-with-benefits deals with half of a seedy bar with filthy bathrooms that violated too many health codes, that stupid son of a bitch, how dare he call Kurt a—

Before Sebastian could say anything, though, Rachel shrieked loudly, pointing wildly at a small cockroach. Her shriek startled the others, and Rachel, in her panic, had hit Santana, who shouted back at Rachel for "shitting sparkles in her panties", among other colorful words never to be written on paper. Of course, the phone had picked up on it.

Kurt glanced through the window, ignoring the commotion around him, and saw Sebastian's slightly bemused face, but not without the inherent smugness that surrounded him. Mercedes reached for her phone, smiled sheepishly, and most likely apologized, probably inventing an excuse as to why her phone was suddenly shrieking and cussing.

Sebastian smirked at her, and suddenly looked up at the Hudmel household, eyes staring straight at Kurt. He winked – even his _wink_ was dirty – and dismissed Mercedes without taking his eyes off Kurt. Kurt held his gaze, schooling his features into the trademark Superior And You Know It expression, and hoped his neck didn't flush an unattractive shade of red. Sebastian looked rather amused, his piercing stare seemingly seeing right through Kurt's unaffected exterior.

Bastard.

Rachel

"I can do this. I am Rachel Berry, and I have an impressive success rate of 81.2%."

Kurt looked at Rachel dubiously, her frantic pacing only making her seem more desperate. She had tactfully asked for Kurt's approval beforehand (which he granted, surprised at her owning something stylish), but her color-coded, blindingly sparkly outline ("My Failproof – Don't Listen to What Kurt and Santana Say – Twelve-Step Plan in Wooing a Male") in her hand lacked any semblance of sophistication.

"Okay. Maybe Finn will get jealous. I mean, a stunning young debutante such as myself has other options out in the world and—hey!" Mercedes had snatched Rachel's bedazzled plan, and snapped a photo of it on her phone before Rachel could pry it out of her hands.

"Rachel, you have a _backup_ plan for flirting? 'Use your assets'? Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Well, I just copied it off of Cosmo, I'm pretty sure it means playing to my strengths, so obviously, if I sing for him, he'll be so entranced and awed, and then naturally, I can ask him to sing to determine if he can keep up with me vocally. Of course, I'm a team player, so I've agreed to attempt flirting for now, to put us all on level ground—"

Santana snorted. "Cosmo means boobs and butt, Berry." She did a once-over on Rachel's outfit. "At least you have some cleavage." Rachel's eyes widened.

"…really? That almost sounds like a compliment, Santana." She nearly sounded touched at Santana's comment, which perturbed Kurt more than he thought it would.

Mercedes' eyebrows furrowed. "You're not seriously thinking about just puffing out your chest and butt for him, right? That's Santana's job."

"Damn right it is, we all know she'd suck at it."

"Okay," Kurt cut in, "just because I'm not into boobs doesn't mean you can freely discuss it in front of me. Rachel, no, don't sell yourself like that." He heard Santana mutter "prude" and chose to ignore it. "Besides, you've been freaking out for" – he looked over at the clock – "two hours and thirteen minutes. It's harmless fun. Just go do your best, okay?"

Rachel took a calming breath, gave him her best show smile, and hugged Kurt. "I'll call your phone so you can listen, but please don't make any noises. At all. It's essential for me to hone the best of my abilities without distraction."

"I can promise that for me, and probably Tina, but everyone else is a solid maybe." Rachel nodded once, appearing assured by the fact that a third of them were capable of being quiet for five or ten minutes, and sashayed out the door. Kurt mentally noted to tell Rachel to never sashay again. Ever.

"Today's a lovely day, Sebastian." Rachel beamed at Sebastian, who looked at her, puzzled.

"Do I know you…?"

"No, but I'm Kurt's best friend, and I figured that not greeting his new neighbor would be impolite. Rachel Berry, future Broadway legend in the making." She offered a hand, which Sebastian didn't take. She awkwardly let her hand drop.

Still rude.

Sebastian stared at Rachel for a moment. "Okay then, Gay Face's hag number two, are you also hitting on me?"

Rachel's mouth opened and closed once at his frankness, before narrowing her eyes at him and addressing him with her trademark intensity. "First, I'm not his hag, and second, Gay Face is extremely derogatory, and if you're struggling with some internal homophobia, I have two gay dads who are very willing to council you through this life crisis. They host monthly PFLAG meetings that Kurt and I attend on a regular basis, and you're more than willing to join us for these meetings, Sebastian, to deal with this serious issue. Tolerace is an ideal trait that I look for in a potential boyfriend. And third, yes, I was flirting with you, but now I'm beginning to doubt this. I can't date anyone with homophobic views since I care deeply for my dads. But if you reform, I'd be more than willing to consider you, you know, after an audition."

After a beat, all he said was "I'm not homophobic." He seemed unfazed by Rachel's intensity, which Kurt begrudgingly admitted was somewhat impressive.

"Heterosexist, perhaps."

"Not really."

Rachel huffed. "Well. I'm surprised you even know what the term means."

"Listen, Jew Nose, I don't have time for this. It'll be a good bar story though, so _bye_." He began walking back to his house

Rachel froze, shocked from his brusqueness, and Kurt could practically hear the gears and cogs in her mind beginning to whir. _Backup plan_. _Assets_. And her entire body language would change in three…two…

"Wait! Sebastian, just give me a minute." Sebastian turned around, eyebrow cocked.

However, instead of the crudely put 'boobs and butt' Kurt expected, Rachel opened her mouth and began to sing 'Don't Rain on My Parade.' Right. Playing to strengths.

_Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter_

_Life's candy and the sun's a ball of—_

"Jew Nose, your Streisand is wonderfully mediocre, but seriously, you're cutting into my masturbation time." He turned and left, and Rachel was left shocked again at his bluntness and even more shocked at his barb on her talent.

_He knows Barbra_, Kurt thought furiously, and he could guess Rachel's thoughts were alight with the exact same thought after recovering from Sebastian's rude dismissal.

"That's hot," he heard Brittany whisper. "Tana, we should have a threesome with him since last time you said you didn't want a threesome with Lord Tubbington."

"God, I'm already fantasizing about it." Santana licked her lips.

"Do you think we could use the purple sparkly dildo?"

"Do you two ever think about stuff outside of sex?" Mercedes interjected, voice tinged with annoyance.

"No," Santana replied, her grin nearly predatory.

"Yes," Brittany said. "Sometimes I think about Lord Tubbington's affair with Hedwig. Or about Libyan elections after the Arab Spring and how Mohamed Jibril would be awesome as their new king."

Kurt would never understand Brittany.

"Kurt?" He and the girls heard Rachel's tinny voice from his phone. "I'm feeling bitter about the world now, and slightly turned on, so can we cuddle and have some vegan ice cream while watching Moulin Rouge for the thousandth time?"

He sighed. "Sure."

Interlude, Part 1

"Hey Gay Face!"

Kurt sighed, but continued to trim the overgrown bushes that Finn neglected to do in favor of staying inside and playing another round of Call of Duty with Puck, Sam, and Artie. He had gotten annoyed with their screaming matches at the TV and Xbox, accepted Puck's challenge, promptly kicked their asses twice – Finn seemed oddly proud, as if he'd been the one to coach Kurt, which was completely untrue (Kurt had been beating Finn at the game since last summer, the idiot) – and finally, after seeing a rather frustrated group of boys beaten at their own game, took up Finn's chore of the day. Such was the routine of the Hudmel household.

He heard Sebastian's footfalls approaching but didn't acknowledge him, choosing instead to cut at the bushes a bit more viciously.

"Princess, I'm talking to you."

"Sorry, I can't hear you over your screaming douchebaggery."

"You wound me."

Kurt finally turned to glare at Sebastian, who had slowed to a stop. "You have two choices: _leave_ or – wait for it – _leave_. Take your pick."

He took a few steps closer to Kurt – the bastard, this is _his_ personal space, he doesn't care how hot the guy is – and grinned. "Need some help? I know your weedy arms are getting tired."

So maybe he was a little tired, but Sebastian didn't have to know. "I'm perfectly fine. As for the weedy arms, though, at least I don't have horse teeth."

"Well, you're like a gay, pasty Casper the Ghost that dresses like a flamboyant Puerto Rican pride parade float." Kurt's eyes narrowed into a bitch glare.

"You smell like Craigslist."

"You can't even shop in the men's section of a store. One look and they sent you to the drag queen bar."

"Your sense of fashion rivals a homeless man's. Actually, I'm pretty sure Patches' idea of fashion is like Vogue compared to yours."

"You wear so many clothes it screams sexless virgin."

"You're a disgusting whore. For your information, I have a fabulous sense of fashion, and I know what the term self-respect means."

"I know what it's like to fuck someone's brains out."

"This is getting nowhere. Just _leave_ already." Sebastian smirked, leaving Kurt to wonder if that was his default facial expression. His eyes, though, freaking _sparkled_ with something akin to mirth.

"Get your friends to stop flirting with me. They're annoying as fuck."

"I have no control over their actions, but could you at least have some manners? Do you even know what manners are?"

"Of course," he replied, and with his smirk still firmly in place, suddenly squeezed Kurt's ass. Kurt jumped from the shock of _having his ass squeezed_, his nerves suddenly on fire. His spine tingled from the shock, and he could feel heat going south at an alarming rate.

"You're an asshole."

"A hot one." Yes, he was, God dammit, but Kurt was taking those words to the grave.

"Doesn't excuse you from being an asshole."

"So you admit that I'm hot."

Kurt stilled, before glaring back at him. "You would be okay if you just wiped that smirky meerkat face away, along with your awful attitude."

"I'm not the one with the attitude, Gay Face."

Kurt took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten under his breath, relaxing his white-knuckled grip on the trimmers. He opened his eyes, and said with a low, dangerous tone, "You will leave, or I will stab you with this trimmer and make it look like an accident."

"Because your weedy arms are so capable of that," Sebastian countered scathingly, but began to walk away. "See you, princess!"

He crossed his arms, glaring holes into Sebastian's retreating form. He was half-hard.

_Bastard_.

Brittany

"Wanna make out?"

"No."

"Wanna have sex?"

"No, just go back to Gay Face."

"It's Brittany, bitch."

"…what? Just go, you're all fucking crazy."

Quinn

Quinn daintily raised an eyebrow. "My turn? I'm not really attracted to him." This much was true; Kurt had noticed that Quinn didn't pay much attention while the other girls gushed over Sebastian. Then again, Quinn tended to have some dignity about boys ever since the Babygate 2010.

"Come on, Quinn, we're all doing it, so it's only fair you do it. Besides, you're like the dream girl for any guy to date." Mercedes glanced at Kurt. "Any heterosexual guy," she amended.

"Yeah," Tina agreed. "You two would be a ridiculously good looking couple." Quinn smiled a genuine smile, appreciative of the two girls' comments.

"Yet," Rachel butted in, "if she gets him, do I get Finn?" Quinn's soft eyes and smile hardened.

"That's for later," Kurt said quickly, not wanting to turn this into another Rachel-Quinn-Finn standoff. "Let's just see how this turns out. Come on, Quinn, we don't have all day."

Quinn dialed Mercedes' number before stepping outside to flirt with Sebastian. For some inexplicable reason, Kurt began to feel a small pang of…jealousy? He quickly squashed the feeling. So maybe his love life was a barren desert – but he could at least be supportive of the girls' love lives, especially when some hot guy moves into Cowtown, Ohio.

"Hello there."

Sebastian looked up; Kurt could see a scowl forming on his face.

"Okay, if you're Gay Face's friend, you can just leave now."

She smiled angelically – deceptively – and said, "No, don't know who you're talking about." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "It's just you and me."

Kurt knew that by now, most guys would have been reduced to putty in Quinn's hands if they hadn't upon first sight, but remarkably, Sebastian remained neutral. In fact, he almost seemed…bored.

Quinn put a hand on Sebastian's bicep. "Do you want to go somewhere…a little more private?" she asked in her low voice, this time breathier. Again, Sebastian seemed disinterested.

_Maybe he's gay_, a tiny voice said in his head.

_Don't be stupid_. _He practically radiates heterosexual. Don't get your hopes up._

"Listen, uh…"

"Quinn."

"WASP Girl, I know you know Princess, and he probably encouraged you to do this to piss me off, so you can leave and not bother with Gay Face."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She was excellent at being deceptively innocent, Kurt had to admit.

"You're not getting anything from me, so get your ass – which could use some conditioning, by the way – back to Kurt's house. Don't think I didn't see you come directly from there."

Her chin rose a bit, eyes shining. "I can see why Kurt called you a bastard." She walked away, projecting the image that most of her dignity was intact.

"That was mortifying," she said as soon as she stepped into the household. "I don't think I've ever felt so embarrassed when flirting." Mercedes put a reassuring hand on Quinn's shoulder while Kurt gave her a sympathetic smile.

Kurt turned to look out the window and met Sebastian's gaze. He raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Seriously?_

Sebastian scowled at him. _I thought we said no more flirting from your friends._

Kurt smirked and shrugged. _Not my problem._

He wasn't reading too much into this, was he?

Interlude, Part 2

Kurt despised Sebastian.

Really.

It was just his _stupid_ hair and _stupid_ smile and _stupid_ eyes and _stupid_ broad shoulders and _stupid_ chest and stupid _everything_ that kind of got to him.

He rolled over, flipped the pillow upside down, and closed his eyes for the umpteenth time. He had moisturized thoroughly tonight, playing calming cello music through the process, drank warm milk and even got something of a lady chat with Finn (an oddly enlightening experience, due to his ability to be astoundingly obtuse and startlingly observant in his own Finn-ish way). Nothing was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

It was Sebastian, of all people, with a vile personality and a too grating presence that danced on the edges of Kurt's frayed nerves, but made his fingertips tingle and heart beat a little louder in his chest. For Christ's sake, they hurled insults at each other until Kurt was shaking from anger (and arousal, what is _wrong_ with his body), two steps away from shoving a trimmer down Sebastian's throat so he'd never have to hear Sebastian speak again.

He sighed, looked up at the clock – 1:46 am – and groaned.

But dammit, there was something—something other than pure asshole that he is—bubbling under his exterior, Kurt knew it—he could feel it in his bones, and his instincts never failed—but Sebastian, damn Sebastian, why was he so frustrating but so intoxicating, why did he have this effect on Kurt, Sebastian was everything Kurt hated in men, especially the whole promiscuous gay stereotype—his brain won't shut down, why—

Guiltily, Kurt's hand slowly, so reluctantly, crept beneath his boxers, and Kurt closed his eyes, thinking of a smug smirk, narrowed green, murky eyes, a lean, toned body, sun-kissed through the blistering August days, and long limbs, tangled between bedsheets, caught in between moans and the sweet slide of skin. As he went through the motions, he ignored the logical, reasonable parts of his brain, and reveled in the glorious sensations that came with pleasure.

_That was an _excellent_ orgasm_, he thought blearily. As he began to clean up, he knew he'd hate himself for even thinking _those_ thoughts in the morning, but at the time, he was so blissfully satisfied with himself that he collapsed, easily falling into sleep within two minutes.

Tina

She didn't show up, but they all received a text from her:

_Not moving from bed. you can guess what Mike and I did ;) have fun xoxo_

They all agreed that Tina was excused. Santana made some more _appreciative_ comments and mentioned that if the threesome with Sebastian didn't work out, Mike was a viable candidate. Kurt chose not to comment.

Santana

"Best for last," Santana remarked, rolling her shoulders back. "He won't even know what hit him until his throbbing dick is coming hard in my mouth."

"That's an image I didn't need," Kurt said, flipping a page of a generic home décor magazine, mentally criticizing the poor use of lighting but noting the use of some of the more avant-garde fabrics.

"Again, prude. Just watch my rambunctious babies work magic." She pointedly looked at Quinn, who rolled her eyes.

It was frying-eggs-on-the-sidewalk scorching today, which meant Santana had an actual excuse to dress as a slut – not that she needed one anyway (she was Santana Lopez, after all). She wore a dangerously low cut tank top, boobs exposed in all of their glory, paired with the shortest miniskirt Kurt had ever seen (and as an avid fashionista, that was quite the feat), showing off her long legs, every inch of it tanned to perfection. She was basically indecent for public eye, but Kurt had to admit that if he were even a bit inclined toward girls, he'd probably be quite turned on.

"You look hot, Santana." Brittany stared straight at Santana's large breasts, which the dark haired girl bounced a few times, clearly pleased.

"Once I get him into my bed, I'll call you, Britt. With that sexy piece of ass, it's going to be all kinds of hot."

Brittany clapped happily.

"Kay, Britt, I'll call you, but don't hang up. Actually, never mind, you will – Quinn, get your cell phone out, and watch the success come rolling in." Quinn glowered, still sore from Sebastian's obvious disinterest in her.

Santana strutted across the street, self-assured and confident; Kurt kind of hoped Sebastian would have the same reaction as he did to Quinn, dismissing and uninterested. He quelled those thoughts, knowing that even if Sebastian were gay – _ha_ – he'd probably be turned the very moment Santana dug her clutches in.

"Hey there." Santana leaned on Sebastian's mailbox, boobs in clear view. To his credit, Sebastian – clad in an undershirt that clung in all the right ways, _stop ogling_ Kurt – didn't look down at her ample cleavage.

"Are you the last one?" he asked, tone carefully neutral.

Santana leered suggestively at him. "Yep, and I'm the only one you're going to remember tonight while you're screaming my name. Oh, Santana Lopez, nice to meet you, yada yada, and I'm the best lay in Loserville, Ohio."

She slowly inched into Sebastian's personal space, and her lips were only inches from his ear. Kurt couldn't hear what she said, but he guessed it was something too obscene to ever be repeated. He couldn't quite make out Sebastian's expression, caught somewhere between too many emotions and too little – he had an excellent poker face but expressive eyes, something Kurt had noticed in their interactions – wait, was that…_arousal_? Of course.

"So, Sebby – can I call you that? – I've got an empty house, a king sized bed, and if you're up to it, another hot girl, flexible and _very_ skilled, waiting for the most amazing night of your fucking life."

Sebastian's face schooled into a carefully neutral expression as he nodded once, albeit a little hesitantly.

"Everything you ever fantasized," she added, voice going from sultry to slutty. "Call me." She placed a crumpled piece of paper in Sebastian's hands, leaving him staring after her, his expression a mixture of awe, disbelief, and fear. Santana had really taken Coach Sylvester's teachings to heart.

"Well," Rachel said at last, "I'm guessing that was effective, even if a little…extreme."

"I'm pretty sure she's made offering sex an art by now," Mercedes said, shaking her head.

Santana strode back into the living room, and boldly announced, "And that's how it's done. Guess who's getting laid tonight?"

"Not me," Quinn grouched, and Santana radiated self-satisfaction. Kurt wasn't sure if he was more annoyed by Santana or Sebastian at the moment.

"All in a day's work, bitches."

Interlude, Part 3

"You seriously have the most psychotic friends."

"Good morning to you, too, Horse Teeth."

"Likewise, Gay Face."

A moment passed between the two before both of them began speaking.

"Look, it's been a _lovely_ chat—"

"Your gay face might be contagious—"

They both stopped, staring at each other. Sebastian raised an eyebrow while Kurt's stare narrowed into an icy glare.

"As I was saying," Sebastian said, but not coldly. "Your Latina friend with the obvious boob job—"

"Santana, but I like to call her Satan."

"Yes, that's accurate. She is quite the character. Kind of like me, but without the class."

"You? Classy?"

"I can be if I want to, Kurt. I just choose not to."

Said boy paused for a moment, processing his words and the near-sincere tone, surprised that Sebastian didn't address him as 'Gay Face' or 'Princess.' It made him unexpectedly…warm inside. He hoped his neck didn't look as warm as it felt.

"So, now that we're on a first name basis, _Sebastian_, would you kindly like to _go away _before I maim a vital body part?"

He huffed impatiently. "Here I was trying to make conversation and use your overrated manners. I'm hurt, Kurt."

"Shame," he replied dryly. "You're probably in post-sex bliss with Santana. There's no other explanation for why you've decided not to be a complete ass."

Sebastian shifted his weight, and Kurt could have sworn he saw a flicker of uncertainty flit across his (stupid, ugly, his gorgeous eyes are green verging on hazel, _stop staring_) face.

"About that…"

"What? Did you not use protection? Swap infectious STDs? If you got her pregnant, I swear, I will come after you, you haven't seen her on her period or too much tequila, I can't even _imagine_ what baby hormones would do to her—"

"Kurt."

"—what happened with Quinn, and Santana's nails _break skin_, and her punches hurt like a _bitch_, and that time was accidental, I can just imagine if she does it on purpose—"

"You're rambling." Sebastian looked amused, as if Kurt had suddenly become an excitable six-year-old child, which he was _not_, thank you very much, just the idea of Santana pregnant was one that would make Arnold Schwarzeneggar cower, and for good reason.

Kurt promptly snapped his mouth shut. "Well, it's none of my business anyways, but if you do end up having to be involved with Santana, I'm giving you a warning as nice neighbor to douchey neighbor that it will be absolute hell."

"I didn't have sex with her."

Kurt's eyes widened, but mostly he let out a relieved exhale. "Oh thank God, you've saved yourself so much trouble, you have no idea."

"Aw, it almost sounds like you care for me." He mock-pouted, eyes sparkling with amusement and a sort of _fondness_ – it looked like it, at the moment – and Kurt for the life of him could not figure out why that made him a bit pleased rather than irritated.

"Oh, shut up, I pity anyone who has to deal with Santana on hormones, her period, or alcohol, because I've been there and it's not pretty. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

"Well, I'm not interested in someone who'll be a nightmare at least once a month."

Before Kurt could even think about the words coming out of his mouth, he commented, "That must exclude me as well. I'm a bitch pretty much the entire day." Oh no. Wrong words. Shit shit shit now Sebastian will think Kurt's coming onto him, dammit, he always messed things up— "Oh God, I didn't mean to say that, sometimes I have no filter, just ignore that and get onto insulting my gay face so I can threaten you with a blowtorch."

Sebastian chuckled, and how is it even _fair_ that his freaking _chuckles_ are sexy, Kurt hates life, he wants to move to Tibet to start a new life as a monk but his hair is far too fabulous for that.

"You? A blowtorch?" Sebastian didn't seem affronted at all – he actually seemed sort of pleased, which made no sense.

"I work in a garage, don't stereotype me."

"I can use a blowtorch, too. I'm an expert at blowing things, if I do say so myself." His mouth twisted upward suggestively, eyes darkening. It took a few seconds for Kurt to process what Sebastian said, and when the realization dawned on his face, Sebastian freaking winked at him again, stupid sexy son of a bitch and wait—

"You're _gay_?"

"I don't like labels, but yes."

"What- how-"

"Mother Nature?" Sebastian offered, not even trying to hide his utter amusement.

"You- I hate you, you know that? Knowing this would've saved me so much trouble, and God, Santana was three steps away from sexually harassing you in public, and I was wondering why you even bothered talking to the lonely queer in town."

"Wondering? If by wondering you mean masturbating," Sebastian said, his eyes strangely intent on Kurt, like he knew what he was doing at one in the morning a few nights ago. Kurt blushed, cheeks coloring.

"Well, good, same here, because you've got a Grade A ass. Almost as good as mine."

"Oh my God, you're even more unbearable now. Just because I'm gay and available and apparently have a nice ass does not automatically make us butt buddies."

"I fail to understand your logic. Why not?"

Because I'm a blushing virgin and don't want to be embarrassed during my first time. Because my first kiss was a failure, and I want my first time to be special, to mean something, for it to be with someone I love and trust wholeheartedly. "Because I have standards. I don't just find the nearest guy who has a pulse."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I have standards, too, but I'm willing to make an exception out of convenience." Kurt fought down the urge to slap him.

"I am not having sex with you, Sebastian Smythe, so you might as well go back to a seedy bar full of overgrown men, hopeless closet cases, and male prostitutes, a scene I'm sure you're familiar with. I hope you don't acquire a new STD. Have fun!" He plastered on a cheery smile, his tone mockingly joyful.

"Oh fuck you, Kurt Hummel." Despite the harsh words, Sebastian's tone was easy, and he left with a smile, ambling away at an easy gait. Kurt stared at Sebastian's shoulders, then butt (okay, fine, Sebastian did have a nice ass), finally dragging his eyes away.

That night he cursed himself again as he went through another one-in-the-morning session, jerking off to images of him and Sebastian in positions he would never dare say aloud.

Kurt

The next day, Kurt invited Rachel and Mercedes over. Tina, sick of the biweekly Panda Express dates with Mike and his mother, had somehow escaped what Tina described as 'Asian Community Hell' and ended up on his doorstep. Mercedes had dragged Quinn with her, trying to keep their friendship intact, and so the five of them sipped lemonade, attempted a game of Life (Rachel was unfairly lucky in spinning, and had creamed them all; Quinn was stuck with four children; Tina reached retirement at an alarmingly fast rate). They were currently throwing cards at each other, ignoring Kurt's protests, when Santana stormed into the house – someday Kurt would have to move the spare key beneath the welcome mat to a place less obvious – dragging Brittany in tow.

"He didn't come that night, he didn't come the next night, what the fuck?"

Most of the girls looked bewildered as Santana glared viciously at whoever dared to make eye contact. When Santana's eyes reached Kurt, he shrugged with a casual grace, the smallest of smiles playing at his lips. "So I guess this is blackmail, right? Santana the slut lost a conquest."

"Fuck you, I was looking fantastic that day, and Brittany and I even got all our kinky toys out, which we don't do for just anybody."

"TMI, Santana."

"God, Kurt, you're such a virginal prude it hurts to look at you."

"Thanks for the ego booster."

Santana was about to bite out another scathing retort before her eyes lit up with an idea. Naturally, Kurt was afraid as her scowl turned into a smirk. It grew into something sharkish, and Kurt could honestly say that that was easily Santana's scariest expression.

"Obviously if Sebastian didn't want this, he must be gay. I can't believe my gaydar didn't pick up on this. He knows Streisand, he dresses pretty" – Kurt huffed, he obviously held a different opinion – "and his hairspray smells like yours." Kurt decided not to question how Santana knew what Kurt's hairspray smelled like.

The room was silent. Slowly, Mercedes spoke up, "Wait, Kurt, did you know this all along?"

"No! Well, I found out yesterday when he made a horrible blowjob joke."

He could feel six pairs of eyes on him. It was Brittany who spoke first. "I'm totally having a lady boner."

Kurt had no words. Tina, surprisingly, found her voice. Timidly, she asked, "What if Kurt tries flirting with Sebastian?"

No. _Nonononono_.

"Yeah," Mercedes agreed. "It's only fair. He got to watch our attempts, so…"

"They'd be cute together," Quinn said.

"And the sex. Hot. I'd totally try out voyeurism with those two." Kurt tried not to shudder at Santana's words.

Rachel's eyes lit up. "I have compatibility tests you two can take! I did one with Finn, and—actually, never mind, the results were rigged…" she trailed off.

"Um, girls, when did I ever agree to this?"

"Um, Kurt, right now." Mercedes grinned, and grabbed Kurt's wrist with surprising strength. "Let's go. If it fails after five minutes, you can come back. Call my phone. Good luck!" She practically shoved him out the door, her face beaming and eyes scheming.

It was times like these when Kurt wondered why he was friends with these people.

Scowling, Kurt reluctantly pulled out his phone and dialed her number. Even if he had the spare key Santana had stolen, he'd never be let into the house until the girls had seen some of his attempts at flirting, a field in which he unfortunately had absolutely zero experience. He squared his shoulders, put on his mask of coolness and indifference, and turned around to face Sebastian.

Who had promptly taken his shirt off in the summer heat.

There went Kurt's composure.

He was defined, very much so, with impressive pecs and visible lines of his abs. He had a tan even Kurt, as proud as he was of his clear porcelain skin, envied – golden and glowing, smooth and healthy, easily drawing other people's wandering eyes. Low hung jeans fit snugly on his frame, the 'V' shape of his waist clearly visible. Sebastian was the epitome of an Abercrombie model, just missing a hot woman to make out with. Kurt also knew the girls either staring unabashedly at Sebastian or snickering at Kurt, knowing that his task had suddenly become much more challenging.

Steeling himself, he sauntered up to Sebastian, hips swinging loosely, and smirked. Confidence was sexy, he told himself. Even if you are cherub-faced.

"Hey Sebastian."

Sebastian gave him the Smirky Meerkat Face, as if he knew exactly what Kurt was put up to but would encourage it nonetheless. "Yes, Kurt?"

_Do not look away from his eyes, do not think about the color of his eyes_. "Since my friends are asses and Santana expects us to have wild exhibitionist sex, can we pretend that this flirting is somewhat effective so that I can go back home and yell at them to never lock me out of my house?"

"I'd rather have the wild exhibitionist sex. Kinky friends you got there, Hummel."

"Yes, my harem and I. Obviously I have loose morals and go around screwing anyone with a penis. Wait, that's you."

"Very funny."

"I aim to entertain," Kurt replied with a smirk, and watched as Sebastian's eyes darkened with _lust_. It was nice to have an effect on someone, finally, after years of being the self-labeled 'lonely queer.' And Sebastian—_shirtless_ Sebastian, _do not look down Kurt_—was lusting after _Kurt_. His confidence levels were definitely appreciating this.

"Well, would you like to come into my house and entertain me, then?" Sebastian was already blatantly staring at Kurt's lips.

"As ridiculous as this exchange is, yes." Kurt congratulated himself at sounding much smoother than he felt.

"After you."

"You just want to stare at my ass." Still, Kurt walked ahead, fully savoring the first time someone good-looking and finally _gay_ had expressed an interest in him.

"No shame here. Grade A, and I don't give that to just anyone," he replied, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if there was an actual compliment buried in there.

"Flattered," he said, tone wry.

"You should be. Few men have earned the title."

Sebastian's door was unlocked. After quickly checking that no one was home, Sebastian grabbed his arm and dragged him roughly up a flight of stairs to his bedroom. Kurt, trying to take in his surroundings, noticed that Sebastian's home, while just newly bought, was nicely decorated, with a color palette that reminded him of a romanticism-inspired theme.

"You have a nice home," he said out loud, not even bothering to snark because it _was_.

Sebastian gave him a brief questioning look before saying, "Thanks?"

"Kind of Frenchy-Italian-Western European."

Sebastian closed his bedroom door, and Kurt noted that Sebastian's bedroom had a similar palette, but was accented with more gold. Kurt was surprised at the number of books in his room—there must have been at least a hundred on the shelves, with a few modern classics piled on his desk. It was the type of room that a cute, bookish (gay) nerd would have, not Sebastian, and one Kurt would have loved to design.

"Well, I did live in Paris for two years."

"Really." Kurt was dubious.

"Really. The people aren't as snobby as people think."

"That's because it's _you_."

Sebastian smiled at this – a real, open smile with no bite on it – and laughed freely, causing Kurt's heart to stop for a few beats and his stomach to flip, something that hadn't been done since the Finn Hudson debacle.

Of course, the moment ended all to soon. His smile soon reverted back to The Face, smirking in all its glory, and he asked, "Now that you're done fulfilling the stereotype interior design gay, do you want to have some fun now?"

"Um…"

Kurt bit his lip; if he kissed Sebastian, it would be the first kiss that counted – Brittany and Karofsky he was all too willing to leave behind – and the idea that doing it with someone like Sebastian mostly disgusted him and partially excited him. His mind chose this opportune moment to remind him of all his insecurities: his lack of experience, his pasty skin, his pear hips, his inability to be sexy, his femininity; anything, really, that made him less than perfect.

"Well? Haven't got all day, and you look fantastic in those jeans, so I'm not exactly patient."

_Screw it._

He crashed his lips to Sebastian's, hoping he didn't come across as too desperate or inexperienced, and Sebastian responded with ease. He could feel Sebastian's smirk across his lips, and began to move his lips against Sebastian's experimentally. It was entirely too new, and he was hyperaware of the stickiness of his lips, and his heart was beating much too quickly, but a tingling sensation he had never felt before spread across his body.

Sebastian sucked on Kurt's bottom lip, and _wow_, that felt amazing, why wasn't he doing this with other boys? A strong feeling of _want_ pulsed through his body suddenly, and Kurt threaded his hands through Sebastian's surprisingly well-maintained hair. He was suddenly acutely aware of shirtless Sebastian, and nearly moaned at the thought of his well-defined chest.

Sebastian slowly prodded Kurt's lips open, and Kurt opened his mouth slowly, letting tongue explore. His tongue swirl did something that elicited a rather embarrassing whimper from Kurt, but it encouraged Sebastian to claim Kurt's mouth more aggressively. The smooth slip and slide of tongue, teeth, and lips was a heady sensation, making his body positively thrum with energy. Heat was beginning to travel southward, as he felt Sebastian's tongue kiss Kurt with ease.

Kurt finally broke the kiss with a loud smack, and Sebastian wasted no time. His mouth claimed Kurt's long neck, and Kurt instinctively tilted his head back, whimpering. He gasped when Sebastian found a particularly sensitive spot and began to suck on it, tingly feeling shooting straight down his spine and downward to his cock. Kurt could feel his IQ plummeting at a rather alarming rate while he grew increasingly hard with every lick and suck of Sebastian's sinful lips.

"Oh my God" was all he could say, breath coming in shallow. "Oh my God, Sebastian."

Sebastian began to nip lightly, tongue still swirling, and Kurt's brain had officially short-wired. Sebastian's hands made their way down Kurt's body, slipping past his hips and grabbing his ass, startling him but making him even more turned on. Kurt's hands began to roam on Sebastian's back, feeling the firm contours of muscle and scratching whenever Sebastian did something particularly well. He could vaguely hear himself panting and moaning through the overwhelming sensations, but at this point he didn't care whatsoever.

Kurt felt Sebastian move downward and nip at his collarbone as Kurt's hands ran up and down Sebastian's biceps, and finally settled on his firm chest. His veins were on fire, the still-too-new feelings of arousal shooting up and down his nerves to his fingertips. And _fuck_, Sebastian's mouth was talented, and damn if Kurt didn't find that ridiculously sexy.

Finally, Sebastian pulled away, and Kurt nearly whined at the loss of contact. He didn't, though, thankfully, maintaining at least a tiny portion of his dignity. Most of his dignity was lost to his straining problem in his pants, but he was pleased to notice that Sebastian was experiencing a similar 'problem.'

"I can't believe I did that." A loud exhale. "I can't believe we did that."

"Congrats for reaching first base, though. You've been promoted from prude to prudish. We should throw a party."

Kurt swatted Sebastian. "Seriously, though. You're horrible, and I just made out with you. Oh my God. I made out with _you_. While you were _shirtless_."

"I feel like I'm supposed to take offense to that."

Kurt breathed through his nose, and out his mouth, resisting the urge to smack Sebastian again. "It's just…"

"You never guessed making out could be _fun_."

Kurt flushed. "No, it's just that this is my official first kiss."

Sebastian looked rather surprised, before asking, "Official?"

"Long story. You don't want to know."

"I'll take your word for it. But seriously, no other guy has wanted in your obscenely tight pants?"

"If you haven't noticed, Lima is kind of in short supply of gay men."

"Um, go clubbing? Your face and voice are girly, it's not like a drunk man could tell." Sebastian looked at Kurt as if this was the answer to all of Kurt's troubles.

"One, screw you, Horse Teeth. Two, not my scene. I like romance – brush of the fingertips and all that."

"I'm pretty sure that was a not very romantic first kiss, and a far cry from a 'brush of the fingertips'."

Kurt didn't have a response to that.

"Well, Princess," he said, stretching like a cat, "you're not too bad for a first timer, but you might want to curb your friends' voyeuristic tendencies. I don't really do kinks."

Kurt reached for his phone, blushing, and realized that his friends had overheard the entire makeout session. He shakily brought his phone to his ear and said, "Please don't tell me you listened to the entire thing."

"_Oh God, Sebastian_," Santana mimicked, doing a poor impression of Kurt's gasping.

Kurt groaned. "Next time just hang up, please."

"Super hot," Brittany said.

"Seriously, Kurt, and I know you don't want to hear this, but everyone on this end _really_ enjoyed it," Mercedes said, and Kurt closed his eyes and prayed that this wouldn't come back to haunt him.

"I'll just…go now," Kurt replied quickly, and hung up. He sighed, and looked over to see Sebastian fully immersing himself in The Face, his smirk radiating smugness. "I don't suppose you have something else to say? Who am I kidding, you always have something to say."

"Your friends were right. It was hot." Sebastian suddenly grabbed Kurt's phone, and despite Kurt's protests, he entered in his number. "Call me, text me, whatever, I'm doing you a favor. Making out is usually better than masturbating, and the fact that we live right next to each other makes it so convenient. You have no idea."

Kurt rolled his eyes and promised himself to delete the number as soon as he was out of Sebastian's house. "Thanks but no thanks. Bye Sebastian."

He exited the Smythes' household after some more admiring glances at the interior design, before crossing the street back to his home where the New Directions girls awaited, probably buzzing with questions. He looked down at his iPhone, finger hovering over the delete button before deciding not to rid of the number. Instead, he decided, there was no harm in having a hot gay guy's number, even if it was a fake. It felt good to know that someone was attracted to him, even if it was on a purely physical level.

His phone pinged with a text from Sebastian. _Tomorrow at 6?_

Kurt read the text several times, as if reading it again and again would cause it to disappear. The text stubbornly stared back at him, and Kurt found his fingers moving before he could completely process his actions. _Fine, but no one finds out about this, okay?_

A reply came back almost immediately. _Deal._

He had no idea where any of his common sense or logic had gone to refuse the damn offer, but Kurt knew instinctively that Sebastian Smythe had already begun to worm his way into Kurt's life, and that he was powerless to stop it.

…bastard.

* * *

AN: So. Yeah. Kurtbastian is really hot. I blame tumblr.

Reviews would make my week.


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